Two Hundred and Eight Days Ago
by Dark Kyotoa
Summary: A story about the life of one girl during The Great Mushroom War. Includes the origins of Finn's hat and a little bit of Marceline.
1. A Normal Life

_Author's Note: Well this is my first fan-fiction is a couple of YEARS. Wow! But anyways, as the description said, this story is about the life of a girl during the Great Mushroom War. I watch Adventure Time casually, so forgive me if I get any of the continuity wrong. Upon learning more info about the show, I might edit some chapters, but for now trust me enough to know that I'll make any plot holes or any weird continuity make sense in the story's long run. Thank you for reading! Please comment, feedback would be GREATLY appreciated!_

**Two Hundred and Eight Days Ago**

**Chapter 1: A Normal Life**

Vivian was not outstanding in any way.

She was not spectacularly beautiful, nor was she blessed with a brilliant mind. Her straw-like brown (not blonde) hair was rather unnoticeable, and her (not colorful) dark-dark brown eyes hardly ever shone brightly. Her sense of fashion was average- perhaps a bit too much so- but varied, while her skin was a bit too pale for her liking.

Her world was not wonderfully mad. She did not have any special abilities; she was not particularly strong, or even brave. Even her hometown was bland, with every average little person dressed in drab little clothes, each worrying about their normal little problems. (Or, at least they were normal to them at this point; the wailing emergency test sirens and the periodic security checks residents experienced daily lost their terrifying charm about a decade prior.)

Vivian did not stick out in a crowd, nor did the actions of her family. Despite their militaristic upbringing, these days Mr. and Mrs. Knately owned a relatively successful cannery. Her father and mother had received a traditional education: they knew their arithmetic about as well as they knew their grammar and their biology skills were as strong as their standard civilian military training skills were. ("You know," the Minister of Education had said, "just in case Little Timmy is ever in a situation where it's necessary, what with the times and all.") Vivian was not partial to any subject, but she enjoyed the life she led. Her group of friends was not too small, but not too large, but the only people at school who stood out in her mind were her best friend, Melaine, and the raven-haired girl who had barely moved in. ("I heard she was from that city that was attacked just the other week." "She's a little pale, isn't she? Almost _inhuman_ if you ask me." "Hey guys, shut up, I think she heard us.")

The first thought that would come to mind when one saw Vivian was often "The girl with the silly doodles and hats." Indeed, Vivian loved to draw, albeit her lack of skill in that department. Every night she sketched, designed, created drafts and outlines for entire outfits. Vivian was enamored by cartoons and by fashion, so it was only natural that she would emulate the gorgeous figures she saw in these shows by making crude replicas of the outfits. Of course, now that the price of fabric had skyrocketed, she would only have a limited supply of cloth at her disposal every week, so she put her money towards small projects. Trinkets, caps, hats, hoods, anything she made would keep her sane in the colorless town which she called home.

Her favorite item was a tightly-fitting, snow white hat. The hat was simple enough to make, despite the strange horn-like protrusions that came out from either side of the hat where Vivian couldn't sew the sides of the fabric together properly ("Oh, of course I put those there on purpose! Ears! Bear ears!" she stammered to her unconvinced mother.) Vivian was proud of this work of hers; it was the only hat she created that she could wear out in public with pride, but ironically this is what kept it out of the sight of the public. Vivian was desperate to keep her creation in prime condition, so she kept it under lock and key in her closet, huddled among old socks and empty photo albums.

It was this hat that would be her legacy.

Even after the end, even after the mushroom clouds obliterated the only home she ever knew and destroyed her bland little life, the hat would remain, and would be the only memory the Earth had left of young, tenacious, tragic Vivian Knately.


	2. While You Still Can

**Two Hundred and Eight Days Ago**

**Chapter 2: While You Still Can**

"You should get out now."

Vivian shut her locker door with a metallic _cla-thnk._ She turned to face the dark-haired girl, her voice defiant and distinct in the bustling hallway.

"I don't know you."

"But_ I_ know _you_," she said, as if Vivian made a joke. "And I'm just saying you should get your freckled face out of this place while you still can."

Vivian held her books close to her chest, burying the lower half of her face under the opened Honors English textbook. A timid "Why?" was all she could muster.

The girl laughed. She didn't notice how mortifying this all felt for Vivian, the one who wasn't used to being _spoken to_, nonetheless laughed at (although admittedly, the girl thought she was more laughing _with_ her.)

"Hehe. I like you, you're actually pretty cool. You should visit me some time!" she choked out between giggles. She started to step backwards, her eyes locked on Vivian's the entire time. Black eyes. Almost unnaturally so, Vivian noticed.

"I'm Marceline!" she added, before disappearing around the corner.

"It was actually pretty weird. She just gives off this sense of overconfidence, you know?" Vivian said into the cell phone's receiver.

Her room was dim, with only the light of a dying lamp giving the room a fading orange glow. She'd cut star-shaped holes into the lampshade, bathing the room in a simulated starry night.

"I've never heard of her. I mean, I'm not saying it's a bad idea to talk to her or anything, I'm just pointing out that she's just a friggin' stranger." It was Marceline, her tone bathed in slight worry. It was a sort of ritual for them, to call each other right after watching _Blanely_. Vivian forgot when they started this, but now it felt awkward to _not_ do so.

"I guess so…" Vivian trailed off. The work desk before her was filled with an array of fabrics, all different textures, shapes, and sizes. "Do you still want me to make those socks?"

"Duh! Oh, and remember to make them thigh-high, like Blanely's. This costume I'm making is gonna be so awesome! I just can't find socks as long as hers, especially since they started that cotton rationing," Melaine said enthusiastically. Judging by her tone, Vivian could practically see Melaine's fist-pump into the air.

Suddenly, a harsh rustling filled the air. Vivian gasped rather ungracefully. "What, what is it?" Melaine said, her voice rising in a nearly panicked way. Vivian's eyes scanned the room, but as soon as her eyes met the window, she spotted a pebble being thrown at the glass, followed by a quiet _plink_ as it met the surface. Vivian opened the windowsill and looked down from the second floor.

"Hey there, uhh, what was it? Oh yeah! Vyvy!" It was Marceline, looking as mischievous as ever.

"What the heck are you doing here?" Vivian said, her hand covering the receiver. She uncovered it, whispering to Melaine, "I think I'll have to call you back," and hanging up before Melaine could protest.

"Vyvy, you should totally come to my place RIGHT NOW!"

"That's not even my name!" Vivian shouted. "And how do you know where I live? I've only ever talked to you for like, two minutes!"

"Well I followed you! Duh! Now are you coming, or not?"

At this point, she felt that this girl wouldn't leave her alone until she did went with her. Despite the contrast of her pastel pajamas in comparison to Marceline's long, torn shirt and ratty leggings, Vivian trusted her enough to know she at least didn't mean any harm. Besides, if she did go with her, there was a chance she'd get bored and stop with her pursuits after this. Vivian grumbled, putting on her shoes and grabbing onto a nearby tree branch, and clambering down the trunk.

"Will you at least tell me why I should leave the city if I go with you?" Vivian asked, recalling the earlier incident in the school hallway.

Marceline ignored her question. "You're gonna love it when we get there, just wait!"

Vivian sighed, resigned to never get an answer from this girl. For a second, she regretted even leaving her room, but she was curious to see what would happen next. "This better be worth it," she griped.

"Don't worry, you'll be impressed."

_Author's note: So that's the start of the real story! If anyone wants to know, I don't quite think Marceline is a vampire yet, but that she was not necessarily born human. But I won't reveal too much of what I think about her; it'll spoil the story. __

_Rate and review, please! Thank you all my lovely readers, and those who favorite and story-alert this. :D_


End file.
